


Know Your Enemy (The Elephant in the Room)

by ViolentGlitter



Category: College Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Florida Gators, Gators, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:57:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolentGlitter/pseuds/ViolentGlitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A week before the SEC championship game against Alabama, Urban Meyer finds himself in a funk. A certain little visitor in his office in a crimson jersey doesn't help matters. Tim Tebow does. Contains fluff, more fluff, plush baby elephants and some veiled fawning over Nick Saban if you squint and cross your eyes just right. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Know Your Enemy (The Elephant in the Room)

The elephant appeared before practice one afternoon, about a week before the SEC championship game. It materialized without any due warning or ceremony at some point between the time Urban Meyer left his office and the time he returned--which was, truth be told, not a wide frame of time at all. It was apparently enough time, however, for a small, plush baby elephant in a Crimson Tide jersey to find its way to Coach Meyer’s desk. Propped up just before it was some manner of handwritten sign, penned in red glitter ink in a bold, masculine hand. “KNOW YOUR ENEMY,” it admonished.

Clearly this was someone’s idea of a joke. 

 Urban frowned. He glanced quickly around his office, then back out into the hallway leading to the lockers. There was nobody--not a soul, not a single potential prankster--in sight. The boys were all down at the practice field by now starting their warm-up drills, and Urban didn’t suspect that any one of them would have had time to sneak from the locker room into his office and back out again without being seen. It was a perplexing matter to say the least. He pulled out the chair from behind his desk and sat down, regarding the little elephant with a single quirked eyebrow.

 “The hell did _you_ come from?” he wondered aloud, picking it up in one hand. The frown gracing his features deepened. “Don’t you look at me like that,” he growled menacingly, fixing his tiny adversary with a withering stare. The little elephant stared right back at him with its bright blue button eyes. Absurd as it was, Urban could have sworn the damn thing was laughing at him.  

 _I must be losing my damn mind._

 The showdown was cut short when a familiar--and somewhat perplexed--voice spoke up from the doorway behind him.

“Coach?” 

“Um.” Urban sat straight up in his seat and quickly placed the little elephant back on the desk.     

 _Alright, play it cool. You’ve got this under control._

Urban glanced coolly back over his shoulder. His eyes were graced with the sight of his star quarterback leaning against the doorframe, clad in his practice gear: a pair of track pants and a snug-fitting blue shirt that, really, should have been in violation of somebody‘s regulation somewhere. Urban faltered a moment underneath the scrutiny of the intense, blue-eyed stare that he found riveted on him at present. He drew in a deep breath. “Tim, whatever you just heard, I promise you I was not just talking to myself.”  
  
“Didn’t hear a thing,” was Tim’s innocent reply. He flashed Urban a grin as he entered the room and came to stand at the corner of the desk. “So.” He raised an eyebrow. “Who’s your little friend there?” Urban just shook his head.  
   
“Oh, somebody’s messing with me,” he said, his tone betraying his obvious disdain. “Thinking they’re cute, I guess. You didn’t see anybody suspicious hanging around out here, did you?”  
  
“Well,” Tim ventured thoughtfully, “I did see a ruggedly handsome older man with silver-brown hair in a crimson polo shirt hightailing it out the exit a minute ago…”  
  
“ _Saban._ ” Urban nearly shot out of his chair. “That cheeky son of a bitch was actually _here?”_  
   
Urban was fairly certain that at that moment, he could physically feel his blood pressure soar to the damn ceiling. It was a curious sensation, though unpleasant, and he couldn’t imagine it being at all healthy. 

“I was totally kidding.” _Oh._ Tim looked to be almost painfully biting back a laugh, and Urban felt a flush creep over his face. 

“Of course you were,” he said with a sheepish half-laugh. “I, uh, I knew that.” 

“Yeah, right.” Tim’s little half-smirk was too knowing, too self-assured as he circled around to the back of Urban’s chair. A moment later, Urban felt the quarterback’s warm weight behind him, felt a pair of strong hands come to his shoulders and start massaging. Urban sighed and let his eyes fall shut as he relaxed  back into Tim‘s talented hands. “You know, Coach, you really need to relax.” Tim purred, nuzzling into the side of Urban‘s neck. “Keep your heart rate down. You don’t want to spike your blood pressure or anything like that.”

“I don’t even see how that could even work,” he said. “Not with you hanging around here. You‘re enough to get anybody‘s pulse pounding. Much less mine.” Tim snickered.

“Flirt,” he accused playfully.

“Tease,” countered Urban. “You ought to be asha--oh my _God.”_ Coherent thoughts screeched to a sudden halt when Tim pressed on a particularly tight knot of muscle at the base of Urban’s neck. 

“Do you have any idea how tense you are back here? Seriously, it’s ridiculous.” The heel of his hand found that spot again-- _hard_ \--and Urban went lax where he sat.

“Well, I have been wound up pretty tight these past few days,” he found himself babbling, a steady and rather unbecoming stream of words flying from his mouth seemingly before he could filter them. “I’ve just been so goddamn stressed with everything that’s been going on and I haven‘t slept worth _shit_ \--oh, right _there_ \--and then…and then,” Urban scowled, “and then there’s _that.”_ He flailed a hand in the general direction of the desk in front of him, which seemed to bring him back to the reality at hand. His head snapped up and Tim followed his gaze. For a long moment, both men stared in silence at the tiny (still laughing) pachyderm, as if pondering at length its origins.

Urban was frowning again. “I mean, how’d the damn thing even get in here?” he demanded. “It’s not like it could have just beamed down here to my desk like Captain Kirk or some crazy shit like that.”

“I don’t know, Urban. I‘m a quarterback, not an astrophysicist.”

“It’s a sign, Tim. It’s an omen.”

“No, Urban. It’s an elephant,” replied Tim earnestly, matter-of-factly. “And I really think you’re reading too hard into this.” He chuckled and draped himself over the back of Urban’s chair, wrapping his arms around him. “Maybe you want to tell me what’s really bothering you, since I already know it’s not just some silly little stuffed elephant getting you all in a funk.” 

Urban sighed. Of course Tim knew. Tim _always_ knew, and that was one of the many reasons Urban loved him. He leaned back, let his head come to rest against the quarterback’s shoulder. 

“Bama’s awfully good this year,” he said despondently, and that was _it_ , he realized: the honest-to-God true elephant in the room. It was probably the reason he was having a minor conniption fit over the small plush elephant on his desk to begin with. It seemed illogical, completely irrational when he tried to put it in perspective, but it was the truth.    

“They are good,” admitted Tim. “Really good. But so are we. So are _you_.” Urban turned his head and Tim’s lips brushed warmly against his. “Win or lose, no matter what happens, I know we‘re gonna be all right.”

“You know, you really are something else,” Urban whispered. He wound his arm around above him and let his hand run roughly through Tim‘s hair. “I don‘t even know what I‘m supposed to do without you next year.” 

“Don‘t think about it,” Tim admonished gently. “In fact, I don’t even want you to think about Bama right now.” Urban turned his head and Tim kissed him, warm and lingering. “If you have to fixate, fixate on this.” His lips found a maddening spot below Urban’s ear; a shaky sigh escaped the latter as he closed his eyes again. “You know,” Tim ventured, “we might have a few minutes yet before the guys come looking for us. We could try to do something about this ‘stress’ thing of yours.” 

“Mmm. I can’t. That damned elephant is staring at me.” 

There was a long moment’s silence before Tim snorted and broke into a fit of giggles; Urban couldn’t help but laugh himself. 

“It’s kinda cute, isn’t it?” Tim said with a grin. “I mean, besides the obvious.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Urban replied somewhat begrudgingly. “You know I’m a sucker for blue eyes anyway.”

“So I’ve been told.” He placed a gentle kiss at Urban’s temple. “I should probably get back down to the field.”

The two walked to the door together. Before heading out into the hallway, Tim halted and turned to Urban, a serious expression on his face.

“Coach Saban is a real stand-up guy, you know.” he said solemnly. “And since I don’t think he’d enjoy getting any crank calls or threats of bodily harm from you at three in the morning, I’m just gonna go ahead and tell you he had nothing to do with the gift on your desk. That was all me. Thinking I was cute, I guess.” He smiled his most charming smile, and any residual anger that Urban might have had left receded quickly. 

“You little _shit,”_ he said and punched Tim’s shoulder lightly. “I’m not even going to ask how you managed to ninja your way in and out of my office so damn quick.”

“That’s nothing but sheer, superior, unparalleled skill right there, Urban.”

“Right,” Urban rolled his eyes playfully. “Take all that unparalleled skill of yours and get to practice, Tebow.”

“Yes, sir.” Tim’s smile was too innocent. Urban shook his head as he started off up the hallway. 

“Keep the warm-up drills going,” Urban called after him. “I’ll be right there.” Tim threw up a hand in acknowledgement and was gone out the back exit. Urban went back in his office to grab his jacket. On his way out, he paused. His eyes fell on his desk, where the little blue-eyed elephant in its tiny crimson uniform still stared back at him. Shaking his head, he plucked it off the desk, regarded it a moment before smirking, opening his top desk drawer and setting it carefully inside. The assistant coaches would give him hell if one of them happened by and saw the damn thing sitting on his desk. With that, Urban pulled his blue windbreaker on over his head and headed out for the practice field. 

He closed and locked his door on the way out.  
  
 **FIN**  
  



End file.
